We both know we can't go without it

Nightjar's patrol was uneventful. Even though he was overly stimulated by all the scents in the borderlands and only went a quarter of a mile in an hour for stopping to sniff every five seconds, there wasn't anything much to say about it. He stood up straighter after a while, licked his chops, and was about to head back to the rendezvous site when his eyes caught on a white figure in the distance.

Immediately, the aspiring young Warden seized the opportunity. He padded right past the furthest scent marking of the pack and took a few steps into the neutral land beyond. Here he stopped, directly in Pantaleimon's line of sight and path, and he bristled and snarled with all the ferocity he had. Apparently he had a lot, for his expression would've frightened him if he could see it. It was a perfect snarl, and he was the perfect picture of a pissed off guardian wolf. Whoever this approaching wolf was, they weren't going to get past him, not in a million years.

The oncoming male called out to him and, recognizing the voice, the young aspiring Warden deflated. His fur smoothed back, his ears fell to the sides, and his tail, which was still erect over his hips, began to swing side to side in a relaxed wag. It drooped until it hung neutrally the closer Pantaleimon got, and as soon as the male was close, Nightjar padded forward to brush his whole body against the other wolf's side. If asked why, he wouldn't be able to explain; his instincts told him to do it, so he did.

"Yeah!" he answered brightly with a toothy grin. Seconds ago, the flash of his teeth was a very obvious threat, but Nightjar now meant it kindly. "Did I do it right?" he wondered then. Did I scare you? he wanted to ask, but he didn't want to find out that he'd actually upset anyone if that was the case.